


takes one to know one

by oopsabird



Category: DC Extended Universe, Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Humor, Laughter, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Pre-Wonder Woman (2017), Rated T for language, World War I, bonding moment, this one was hard to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopsabird/pseuds/oopsabird
Summary: “So... what are yousupposedto be, really?” Charlie blurts out one night, in the early fall of 1914.There’s a silence, as Sameer turns to blink at him and clearly tries to decipher whether or not he should be offended by this abrupt inquiry. “....I beg your pardon?”(Every great friendship has to start somewhere.)
Relationships: Charlie & Sameer (Wonder Woman), Charlie/Sameer (Wonder Woman)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	takes one to know one

**Author's Note:**

> I have two separate and equally beloved headcanons about how Sami and Charlie came to know each other, and which one I use in a fic dpends on various random factors. Options are: A) They met in an Incident at a London bar at least a year or two before the war, became friends and roommates, and then when the war started Charlie landed Sami a military job, or; B) They met for the first time as members of the ragtag team assembled by one Captain Steve Trevor for his espionage and hijinks, two total strangers at the start of the war who bonded deeply in the midst of it all.
> 
> This particular fic operates on Premise B, and imagines a scene from those early days. Have fun!
> 
> * * *
> 
> CW: There is a small but un-ignorable amount of casual alcohol consumption in this fic, but it is set in a time years before Charlie has developed a debilitating drinking problem. There is also some discussion in broad non-specific terms about the racial discrimination Sami faces in his acting career.

“So... what are you _supposed_ to be, really?” Charlie blurts out one night, in the early fall of 1914.

They are sitting in a field somewhere just inside the friendly part of Belgium, waiting for Chief and Steve beneath the designated rendezvous tree. These two weeks which they are in the midst of are their third or fourth mission together, the longest yet in two months of on and off working acquaintance. The hectic pace of war has not left many chances to move past small talk, but Charlie is burningly curious about this handsome clever half-stranger. And he has never been particularly good at keeping impertinent questions out of his mouth.

There’s a silence, as Sameer turns to blink at him and clearly tries to decipher whether or not he should be offended by this abrupt inquiry. “....I beg your pardon?”

“Ach, geezus! Sorry.” Charlie drags a hand over his face in exasperation, cursing under his breath. “Sorry! Bloody terrible with words, that came out wrong. Rude. What I _meant_ was: you... you haven’t always just been a spy. Have you?”

Sameer, when Charlie finally dares to look back over at him, is gazing off into the distant edges of the starlit sky.

“I have been a great many things, in my lifetime,” he finally says, quiet and level. The perfect cryptic non-answer, to a tee.

It’s probably also a hint to drop the subject, but Charlie has been told pretty frequently over the last forty years that he is stubborn and stupid in equal parts, so he’s not really deterred. He does take a second to mull over his next question, though. Making sure it sounds about how he wants it to, before he quietly puts it out,

“What was your favourite one?”

That actually seems to startle Sami, making him blink in surprise and flick those wide dark eyes over Charlie’s way. It feels for a moment like he is appraising him, taking him in with a new appreciation as if truly seeing him for the first time. The scrutiny is enough to make Charlie feel self-conscious, glad that the dark will hide the warmth that flushes to his cheeks and ears as he ducks his head away and rubs a hand at the back of his neck.

When he dares glance over again, Sameer’s gaze has shifted upward, a slightly smiling curve playing over his handsome mouth as he takes in the sky full of stars. His face is a lovely profile, silhouetted against the stars under the pale sliver moon, and the sight makes Charlie’s heart do some sort of stupid little backflip, solidifying the sinking feeling he’s been having for a while now that he might be quite completely screwed.

“An actor,” Sami finally says, to him and the starry darkness, words held almost reverently in his mouth. “That is my favourite, of all of the things I have been.”

Oh, that fits just perfectly. It feels like the key that’s been missing in trying to make this beautiful enigma of a man make sense, to tie all the pieces together. Charlie can instantly picture him, holding an audience captivated from the spotlit stage as easily as he does with marks around a barroom table. Playing villain and hero, wise man and fool, shrugging on moods and personalities like any other man shrugs on a new coat. Sameer, the actor. Yes, that feels exactly right.

“Well well well, look at you, mister showbusiness!” Charlie grins broad and cheerful, nudging Sami with his elbow in a jovial way. “Tell me then, have ya been in anythin’ I might’ve seen?” Plays aren’t much his thing, but it’s worth asking.

Dropping his gaze, Sameer chuckles, but this time his mirth doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He shakes his head. “Ah... I am afraid I don’t get as many roles as I would like to, unfortunately.” The smile falters, and a heavy, silent beat passes. “Hardly any, in fact.”

“What???” Now it is Charlie’s turn to blink in bewilderment, unable to add up the parts of what’s being said. “But... you’re bloody good at acting! I’ve seen that myself!”

At that Sami glances his way with a smile that is bittersweet, but there’s the ache of years in the lines by his eyes. “ _Merci_ Corporal, that is quite touching.” His gaze drops again, and he picks a blade of grass to start fiddling with it in his lap. “Unfortunately, when most people look at me... an actor is not what they see.”

It takes a moment, wheels in Charlie’s head turning, before he gets past his own broadly positive impressions of Sameer, and realizes what that must mean. Remembers prejudice. Remembers the ugly unfairness of the world.

“Oh.” He looks at his own hands a moment, trying to figure out what to say to such a bitter truth. It’s rather heartbreaking, actually. And he’s still not good with words, but god, he has to say _something_. “That’s... that’s really fucking shitty, mate. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t bloody be that way.”

“Ha!” To his surprise, Sameer lets out a sharp bark of genuine laughter, tipping his head back to the sky. “‘Really fucking shitty’, yes, that is an apt description, very correct indeed. In fact, that might be the most honest way of describing it I have yet seen. Well done, Corporal!” He reaches over to clap Charlie on the shoulder, firm and hearty, and then leans back against the tree with a sigh, looking a slightly less drawn and tired than he had a moment ago.

Charlie chuckles a little, feeling more at ease in knowing that for once his bluntness _hasn’t_ made the situation worse than it was supposed to be. “Honesty. Just one of my many talents!” he mutters cheerily, slipping his flask out of his jacket pocket and taking a swill. When he holds it out in offering with a raised brow, Sameer gladly accepts and takes a drink too. “Usually just gets me into trouble, more often than not.” It’s a flaw that has led to its fair share of loneliness, but he plasters a smile over it anyway, aiming for nonchalant.

A smirk twitches up on Sameer’s face as he passes the flask back, impish amusement alight in his eyes. “I have begun to notice this, yes. Especially after that brawl at the pub last week.”

“Hey, in five more minutes I coulda taken that brute just fine!” Charlie exclaims, indignant without any real forcefulness. “Was just lettin’ him _feel_ like he was winning for a bit, that’s all...” He takes a drink slow and stares off into the middle distance like a far more cool and hardened person than he knows he really is, squinting and pursing his lips for good measure.

Sami chuckles, shaking his head with a rueful grin. "Oh yes, yes of course. That was why Steve and I had to rescue you, eh?" Quick as a flash, he deftly plucks the flask from Charlie's hand. “You really are a terrible liar, Corporal.”

“Oh well _excuuuse_ me!” Charlie snatches the flask back just before it can reach Sameer’s lips, clutching it to his chest and aping an expression of great performative offence. “We cannae _all_ be bloody Shakespeare, can we?”

Rolling his eyes with an extra bit of dramatics, Sami sighs like a man greatly put-upon. “Shakespeare was a _writer_ , not an actor. Goodness gracious. Get your facts straight. Amateur.” He glances surreptitiously sideways, and then swipes out to try to grab the flask — Charlie yanks it out of reach.

“Bookworm,” Charlie bats back at him, smiling, and takes a victory swig to congratulate himself. Something about this bantering dynamic just feels _right_ — makes him feel warm and a little bit restless, in what could be a truly dangerous way.

“ _Touché,_ ” Sami concedes, inclining his head. There is a pause, his lips twitch-

and then he abruptly pounces for the flask again. Diving over across Charlie’s lap, Sami tries to grab it from his far hand and lets out a curse in Spanish when Charlie laughingly cries “Oi, NO!” and swiftly lunges away backwards with it. In the midst of that movement the smooth metal slips through Charlie’s fingers as he flings his hand straight out above him a bit too hard, and the flask goes soaring from his grip almost directly upwards through the air-

to become lodged _THUNK_ between two gnarled branches, fifteen feet above them in the tree.

Both of them just stare up at it, for a moment, totally dumbstruck to silence and blinking in disbelief.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me,” Charlie mutters, utterly flabbergasted.

That elicits a _spectacular_ snort of laughter from Sameer, shattering all composure completely. The utterly unexpected sound of it yanks Charlie right into hysterics along with him, and they both collapse into a giggling, cackling mess, tumbling into each other’s space as they clutch at one another for support.

“Shh-shush-” Sami tries vainly to quiet him with a hand waved in Charlie's face, the effort roundly unsuccessful given that he can’t even stop himself from cracking up again mid-word and is struggling to sit upright. “G-going to g-get us _killed_ -”

“ _You_ started it-” Charlie wheezes, clapping his hand back over his own mouth again as another wave of laughter takes him, fighting to muffle himself so the sound doesn’t echo out across the field. The harder they try, the harder it feels to stop the giggles, a new round breaking out each time one makes a noise or catches sight of the other’s face. It is absolute silliness, without rhyme or reason. Charlie quite forgets that there is a war going on as he clutches his aching diaphragm and laughs at nothing at all, his shoulder bumping up against Sameer’s as they sit here and crack up like total fools.

By the time it finally winds down, they’re both a bit breathless, slumped against each other and wiping tears from the corners of their eyes.

“Christ, I haven’t laughed like that in ages...” Charlie sighs, unable to stop smiling even though it hurts his poor aching face. There is a lightness in his chest now, a feeling he didn't even realize had been missing for god only knew how long before. “Honestly cannae believe it got stuck up there, I mean _what_ are the odds...”

“ _Mon dieu_ , shut up, you are going to make me laugh again!” Sameer groans, clutching at his chest and shaking his head. “If I am the spy who gets shot for laughing, nobody will ever let me live it down. Steve's mocking will be endless.” There is no enemy nearby, but one can never be too careful of course.

“Sorry, sorry.” Charlie struggles to force his face into something close to a deadpan expression, staring out into the stars and trying not to think about the warm weight of Sami pressed up along his side. A moment passes, and then he mutters, “Damn shame, though. I liked that flask.”

There’s a choked sort of sound as Sameer half-swallows a snort of laughter, and then simply buries his head in both hands. “Goodness gracious, Corporal you are a _menace!_ ”

“Duly noted.” With a chuckle, Charlie lets himself smile lazy and easy, as he keeps watching the stars and definitely not thinking about how Sameer is very nearly resting his head on his shoulder. Mustn't be stupid now, mustn't be daft. Don’t assume that he’s strange in the same way you are, that this is anything more than friendly camaraderie. A few more heartbeats pass, breaths finally easing and slowing, and then he surprises even himself a little when he says, quietly, “Y’know you can call me Charlie, yeah? If you want to. I- I wouldn’t mind it. If we were friends.”

So much for not being stupid.

“Oh.” Sameer is silent, for a painfully long moment. When he speaks next, somehow his smile is audible in his voice. “Alright, Charlie. Your wish is my humble command.” He inclines his head in a sarcastic half-bow with a theatrical flourish of his hand.

“ _Well_ ,” Charlie huffs a laugh, “I highly doubt _that._ ” It is important now to study the stars again, to not look over, to ignore that fact that hearing his name wrapped up in Sameer’s warm voice and lovely accent makes the centre of his chest burn in a way that has nothing to do with the whisky. The nearly-painful smile has plastered itself upon his face again, and he is helpless in the wake of how stupidly happy he feels. In spite of his rough edges, Sami seems to like him. Sami believes they could be friends. “Think it'll be a cold day in hell when you ever find yourself takin' orders from me.”

Sami shrugs, the motion of it jostling Charlie’s shoulder. “Okay, so perhaps that is an exaggeration. You must permit me my flare for the dramatic _mon ami_ , at least some of the time. A man needs an outlet, after all.”

Still smiling, Charlie nods. “As you like, then.” A pause passes, eyes still fixed upon the half-recognized constellations, and then he says much more earnestly, “You’ll get to use it on the stage, though. Someday, I’m sure, they’ll wise up. Talent like yours cannae go on bein’ ignored forever.”

The next silence goes on long enough that he eventually leans away somewhat just to look over at Sameer, check that he hasn't finally somehow gotten this wrong. Instead he finds his companion watching the heavens with a bittersweet smile, and slightly too-shiny eyes.

Sameer swallows, visibly, before he speaks. “I... thank you, Charlie. That is very kind of you, very kind indeed.” He clears his throat, and adds a bit less hoarsely, “I too hope this will turn out to be true.”

“Course it will,” Charlie says, taking a chance by reaching up to squeeze Sami’s shoulder and smile in encouragement when the other man glances his way. Then he grins wider, crooked and impish, unable to help himself. “After all, I’m _always_ right!” When Sami’s eyes narrow skeptically, he winks.

“Ha!” Sami laughs, falling back heavily against the tree trunk. “Still a terrible liar, _mon ami-_ ”

At that moment the flask suddenly slips free from the branch above them, dropping down to land with a startling metallic _THUNK!_ next to Charlie’s feet.

“ _SWEET mother of god!_ ” he blurts out as he flinches, perhaps a few octaves higher than is dignified.

And poor Sami just ends up collapsing into fresh peals of muffled hysterical laughter all over again, the quiet gleeful sound of it echoing into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> One headcanon I do carry into _every_ fic is that Charlie fell head over heels for Sami almost instantly when they met (just completely charmed, a total goner) and just fell deeper over time, but Sami gets years down the road before he realizes that the deep fondness he has for this very strange man, his best friend, has blossomed into something more as they grew ever closer in the high-tension environment of the war. It was nice in a fic like this to get to explore one of the earlier moments of that development, when they are only just starting to learn how well they click together! And the banter is always a joy. :)
> 
> Title is from Cowboy Like Me, which is like, a SamiCharlie song to an _unbearable_ degree. Look at [these lyrics](https://genius.com/Taylor-swift-cowboy-like-me-lyrics). Unreal.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this!! I still have a million drafts and WIP's floating around and plodding slowly towards completion - comments, kudos, or [asks on tumblr](https://oopsabird.tumblr.com/tagged/samicharlie) about these characters are a great way to gently coax more words out of me, if you liked these ones! Regardless, thank you for making this fic a part of your day <3


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